


Cast the Die

by VolxdoSioda



Series: Whumptober 2019 [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Whumptober Day 6: Dragged Away, soul marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 14:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20931875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: You with me, Noct?Always, Prom.





	Cast the Die

_ “Prompto! NO, no, don’t, dad you can’t--” _

_ “Noct--!” _

_ “Let him go, you’ve got-- you don’t understand, Prompto wouldn’t-- Prompto, Prom!” _

_ “Guards, arrest this traitor! Ship him back to Niflheim, and examine his family. I want every detail on my desk within the next hour. Noctis, come away--” _

_ “No! NO, you don’t know what you’re doing, what-- Dad, don’t! Prompto! PROM, I’LL FIND YOU, I’LL FIX THIS I SWEAR--” _

He’s howling Prompto’s name, again and again, even as the Kingsglaive drag Prompto away, even as Gladio and Ignis pull Noctis away from the doors, and then eventually Gladio has to pick him up because he’s fighting so hard. 

Prompto, who they say is the traitor in their ranks. Prompto, who screams he’s innocent, Prompto who has Noctis’ heartbloom in his chest, Prompto, Prompto, Prom--

The distance in his chest stretches wider and wider by the hour, until the connection between them is thin enough for the smallest breeze to sever.

And yet, Noctis clings.

X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

They were supposed to be happy. 

It was right after high school when he and Prompto found the matching heartbloom marks - and Gods, Prompto had cried so much that night, both with excitement and fear, and Noctis had been too overjoyed to do anything but kiss him, but tell him again and again  _ I love you Prom, I love you so fuckin’ much, don’t ever leave my side. _

And Prompto had sworn  _ I won’t, I won’t ever leave you, where you go I follow, yeah? _

They were supposed to marry, supposed to spend the rest of their lives together--

Except now they can’t. The Council’s already working overtime, blackening Prompto’s name, spreading their accusations as truth -  _ the assailant has been found, there’s no longer a cause for concern, there will be no more deaths in the Crownsguard, no more leaks, no more problems. _

They’ve searched Prompto’s house. They’ve questioned the people who adopted him - Noctis doesn’t dare call them parents. Parents shouldn’t accuse their own child, shouldn’t throw them under the bus like that--

_ “Always a bit of wrongness to him, I used to say--” _

_ “Kept strange hours, came home covered in dirt and other things some times, grinning like he’d won the lottery--” _

_ “Always claimed it was for photography, but never thought to ask  _ what kind  _ of photography.” _

But they’re all wrong. The accusations, the words, the cheers as people hear Prompto’s gone. Ignis and Gladio and Clarus and his dad, they’re all  _ wrong.  _

Because Noctis carries Prompto’s heartbloom in his chest, and he can feel the constriction of panic as keen as a knife, can feel the sheer terror and sick anxiety, the desperate whisper of  _ please listen to me I didn’t do it I didn’t do it, please please please  _ going on over and over again. 

Prompto is innocent. The real perp is still out there, waiting, and Noctis--

Noctis has begged. He’s screamed. He’s ordered.

They’ve all ignored him.

Ignis says  _ I understand how you must feel, but you must accept reality. He never had your best interests at heart. _

Gladio says  _ man the fuck up, Princess. Shoulda never let him that close. Shoulda seen there wasn’t anything right about it. _

But they don’t. They don’t understand. How can they, when their heartmate is still alive, still out there in the wider world, not being accused of treason and shipped back to a world they’ve never known? How can they possibly understand when just an hour before, they’d been accepting of Prompto, laughing with him and treating him like one of theirs?

The Council insists that Prompto likely chose Noctis to be his target from an early age, and planned everything out. That this entire time he was grooming Noctis out of his fear and paranoia for the sole purpose of mining information out of him. They say they have evidence--

They talk a lot of shit. Say a lot of things. And Regis nods along, and Noctis wants to  _ scream-- _

He doesn’t. He doesn’t. Instead he reaches across the bond he shares with Prompto, the bond he still hasn’t severed,  _ will never  _ sever now, and clings as tight as he dares.

Half a world away, Prompto clings back, and cries.

  
  


X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Carbuncle takes pity on him. As ever, his oldest friend sees more than anyone else, and so when Noctis falls asleep that night, he winds up in a field of sylleblossoms, and Prompto is there. They both take a run at each other, and wind up in a tangle of limbs and apologies. Prompto crying, and Noctis crying, doing his best to whisper reassurances as he presses their foreheads together. He can feel their heartbond between them, warm and heavy, on the cusp of bloom, but now destined to die instead.

They stay like that, tangled together until they can’t, until dawn starts creeping in and Carbuncle is gently pulling Noctis’s sleeve with his teeth.

_ I know you want to stay, but you know the rules. Tomorrow night I’ll bring you back. Promise. _

And so they part that first night. When Noctis wakes, he ignores Ignis and goes to the bathroom. There was a tearing sensation in his chest, and when he takes his shirt off and looks--

His heartbloom is wilting. One of the heads has been severed, and that stem has taken on a wrinkled, browned quality. Before long, that entire head will die, and then the plant will follow.

There’s no panic at the realization. Just a renewed desperation to try to get through  _ someone’s  _ head, no matter what.

He has to make them listen. He has to get Prompto back.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Three weeks later, the world is a different place. At least that’s the way it seems to Noctis. They’re on the way to the Citadel, Ignis in the driver’s seat, and Gladio riding passenger. His retainers have been sticking close to him since Prompto was taken, insisting on protecting him from further infringes on his person. Noctis kicks them out of his apartment. He’s stopped taking meals from Ignis, stopped shopping for food he won’t eat. Food he  _ can’t  _ eat, with a stomach hollowed out. 

On the other side of the world, Prompto is in isolation. They put him there first thing, stripped him of all the Lucian garb and burned it. Burned anything that gave him an identity. Shaved his head, put him in an isolation cell and left him. He gets one meal a day, but stopped eating a week ago. He sleeps most of the time now, and when Noctis goes to him at night he’s almost always crying, wanting to be held and kissed and reassured that he didn’t do it. All things Noctis can and does do. 

There’s no more talk of video games, of photography, of happier days. 

Of Prompto ever leaving Gralea again. Of anyone listening to Noctis. 

The world goes on for Noctis. He’s lost six sizes in clothes, which was distressing to Ignis, even more so when Noctis called and ordered his own new suits in the right size, and then lost two more sizes before he had a chance to use the suits he ordered. Noctis has taken back the keys had gave to them, changed the locks on his doors, started doing things for himself. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t play video games, he quit his job because there’s no point anymore. It’s not like he has a future waiting for him. Not with Prom gone. 

He does everything perfectly now, but doesn’t let anyone close. He’s shut everyone out, even his own father. They think it’s a phase. That he’s working his way through the anger part of the five stages, but he’s long past that. He’s gone right into acceptance now, because he’s stopped caring. He can’t do anything, not as Noctis and not as the Prince of Lucis. He’s been silenced, and their city is nothing but a fucking  _ plague,  _ and Noctis quite frankly would throw the doors wide for Niflheim if it meant he could take Prom and run the fuck away.

But he can’t. So instead he exists one day at a time, and dreams of Prompto, of their decaying heartbloom, of the too-thin thread of power stretched for far longer than is healthy. 

Today, he walks into the King’s office in the Citadel, and waits. Eventually, the King comes in, and says, “Niflheim has offered us terms of peace. You will be marrying Lady Lunafreya.”

_ No I won’t,  _ Noctis doesn’t say. “Sure.”

The King frowns at him. “I know you haven’t seen her in a while--”

And he goes on and on and on about duty and sacrifice and getting to know your partner. Like Noctis isn’t already bound to someone else. Someone better than Luna. 

He’s dismissed after, and outside Gladio snorts. “Wow, didn’t think you had it in you to be any less charming, Prince Charmless. But you’ve set a new low today.”

“I’m sure His Highness is thrilled at the prospect of his upcoming nuptials,” Ignis says, and he’s so far off the mark it’s almost laughable. “Just because he’s not screaming about it from the rooftops--”

They bicker, like always. Noctis stops listening. He wants to be home, where he can go to sleep, and see the one person who actually  _ matters  _ in his life.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

“They’re going to execute me.”

They’re sitting in the field again. Prompto’s looking as thin and tired as ever, but now there’s a new emotion there. 

Hope.

“They said it’s to be by firing squad, set at the end of the month. I’ll finally be allowed my freedom.” He reaches a hand over, and curls it against Noctis’. “Yours too.”

“We’ll go together, Prom.” He kisses Prompto, as gentle as ever, leans their foreheads together. “That way when your heart stops, mine does too. We promised, right?”

“Yeah,” Prompto murmurs. “You sure? I won’t be mad if you want someone else. Heard through the grapevine Luna’s s’pose to marry you.”

“I want you, and only you, Prom. I want the life we promised each other, the life we didn’t get because they didn’t want to  _ listen.” _

“Any other deaths happen?”

“No. But you know what’s funny? The day someone took information, I found flowers on my doorstep. Red roses.”

Prompto blinks at him. “Oh. Come to think of it, a week before I got carted off, I found one of the girls from our school watching your apartment. Er, girls from our former school. Thought maybe she had a question for you, or just wanted like, a photo op.”

“Mm. So it’s a stalker that decided you got too close. He rubs their heads together. “Now that I think on it, all the Crownsguard had their throats slit, or were killed from a distance. And they were all guys who’d been guarding my apartment. So she either snuck up on them--”

“Or shot them.” He nods. “Makes sense. Least we figured it out before we died.”

“You know what this means?”

“Mm?”

“When I die, she’ll hear about it. And she’s gonna lose her mind.”

“She’ll out herself, you think?”

“Maybe.”

It’s quiet for a time. Carbuncle is close by, but giving them privacy. The little god has been there through it all, and sympathized with them the whole way. 

“I can’t wait to be free, Noct,” Prompto whispers. 

“Me either, buddy. Carbuncle? Can you, yanno?”

Carbuncle’s red horn glows, and for a moment there’s a sensation of tight constriction in Noctis’ chest, so tight it almost burns. And then the feeling ceases, but when Noctis closes his eyes he can see out Prompto’s, and he can feel Prompto and feel himself. 

“Now we wait.”

X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

  
  


He doesn’t bother with a will. He debates on it for a couple weeks, going back and forth - he has words he wants to say, but to be honest all his words were used up a while ago. And if this is how it is to be, he won’t need words. Action will speak them loudly, will accuse and scream and howl his victory to the skies where he cannot. So he doesn’t bother with a will.

He does, however, leave a word of advice for the King.

“You’d better start looking for another heir.”

Regis stares at him. “I’m sorry?”

“Good. At least one of us should be.” Noctis stands, twitches his coat back into place. “Start looking for another heir. I meant what I said when I told you I would die for Prompto.”

“Noctis, we’ve been over this--”

Noctis walks out before he says anything else, ignoring the call of his name, frantic, and then angry. 

It’s a truly terrible, delightful irony that the day they schedule Prompto’s execution is the week before Niflheim is due to arrive for the treaty. The King is making speeches the whole day, and Noctis is set to accompany him.

A world away, Prompto finishes up his last meal, and rises as the cell door opens. He willingly offers his arms out, no longer willing to fight, and after a long moment the jailer looks him in the eye, and then shakes his head. The cuffs are put away, and Prompto quietly follows as the man starts leading him towards the execution grounds.

Noctis takes a swig of water, brushes off his suit, and steps out with a genuine smile to join Regis. Then he stares ahead, straight-laced and aware of everyone around him. How many eyes are watching. How many people have come to see him die today. 

He wonders if the King will cry.

Prompto waits as the jailer opens the door, and calls for the firing squad. They march out ahead of him, and then the jailer gestures, and Prompto quietly, willingly goes to the post out in the center of the yard. He waits, patient, as the men load their guns. There are always multiple shots fired, in case the first fails. 

The King concludes his speech, and the crowd cheers and claps. There are a lot of positive faces out today, almost none of the dissenters. Noctis looks up as the sun briefly comes out from behind a cloud, nearly blinding him--

\--to the guns being lowered in a straight line. Prompto takes in a deep breathe, smelling the world around him one last time as his eyes shut.

_ I’m ready, Noct. Coming with? _

“Steady now. Aim!”

Noctis closes his own eyes as the cloud vanishes, and a thousand memories well up. He hopes wherever they end up, Prompto can finish his photography. They can be happy, together, knowing the world is on their side. 

_ Always, Prom. Lead the way.  _

“Fire!”


End file.
